


Badlands

by Mister_Spock, Therm (Mister_Spock)



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-19
Updated: 2020-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:28:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22805557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Spock/pseuds/Mister_Spock, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mister_Spock/pseuds/Therm
Summary: She was changed by the world they lived in. That's what Rick said. That's why he took her away, left her. Maybe he was more forgiving than Rick, but she'd always just be Carol to him.Notes: I'm not saying this is Caryl... it's just what it is. But it's mostly about them.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

There were three tents.

Three tents filled with those that survived the siege on the prison, the few possessions they'd salvaged as they fled. They had bigger tents. Back at the prison, stored up in the bed of one of their trucks. It was ready, in case they had to leave in a hurry, but that vehicle was quickly taken care of when the attack happened. Burnt out. They'd scavenged what few things they had now.

Daryl hadn't really wanted to share a tent with the others at first. Had kept watch the first night. Just in case. Spent a few nights sleeping beside the tree they'd settled near but then it grew colder and he figured it was better to just suck it up and get whatever he could.

He lay there one morning having woken when Carl turned in his sleep and ended up with his back against Daryl's shoulder blade. The warmth of another against him was strange and uncommon enough that he couldn't settle while the young boy rested against him.

Instead he listened to the rain. Felt that uncomfortable pull in his side that hadn't abated any since they'd left the prison behind. He wanted to think it was from the losses they'd suffered. The stain on his filthy shirt told him otherwise. Part of him knew he should do something about it. Say something. But it'd do good. They had nothing. They were barely able to scrape together enough food for a day.

And the rain had hardly let up. Fit well with the groups mood since they'd run. But as Daryl lay there that morning, it started to ease up and by light, it had stopped all together.

He pulled his boots back onto his sock covered feet, he didn't even bother taking the socks off any more, and stepped into the muck outside the tent. The water squelched under foot and he headed to check on the food they had. A few tins of beans, some fruit and a unmarked tin.

He was going to head out, planned to eat first but there was so little. He'd eat later. At least he could pretend that aching, dull pain from his side now that he was moving, he could fool himself that it was down to hunger.

He headed into the woods. When the rain started again, it didn't matter so much. He knew he should go back. He'd not find anything, not in weather like this. But he couldn't. Couldn't stand to face the others. Didn't even want to go back. Not without something good to show them. Something to show them. Anything.  
So he just walked on. Barely noticed when he left the woods and was walking through a field. He regained some awareness when his senses made him alert, like something was not quite right. He dropped lower, the tall grass in the field helping him to hide himself. He scanned around himself, watching and waiting. He always let his sense guide him, trusted his instincts completely. He could barely believe his luck when he saw a deer emerge from the woods on the other side of the field.

He watched eagerly as the doe made her way into the field, ears twitching nervously as she made a slow walk in his direction.

Daryl knew he couldn't afford to get anything short of a perfect shot on her. They needed this, the group. He had to get it for them. So he waited. Gave her the time she needed.

She was slow, nervous. Maybe she knew something bad was about to happen. And she was right.

But it had nothing to do with him.

Daryl watched her bolt, ran into the woods where he'd come from minutes ago and he watched, fired a wild stray shot that just landed on the ground somewhere out of sight, but she was gone and he watched as from the woods, following her, a herd of walkers. He lowered himself into the mud, let the grass cover him as they passed by. Close enough he could hear them squelching through the mud but not that they could see him.

He waited until it was silent. The growls distant and just the rain pelting the ground beside him the only remaining noise. He stood up and looked around. No walkers. No deer.

He was cold and wet enough that his whole body felt numb. He should go back. He knew.

But the walkers were in the woods he needed to travel through, could even stumble across their tiny camp. The others might flee, or he might lead the walkers there. And really, he didn't want to go back any more.

Didn't want to do anything. He considered just dropping back down in the mud, in the rain and not moving. But that was too pathetic. He couldn't quit. He kept heading for the trees. Where the deer had come from. Maybe he'd get lucky. Just before he reached the woods, he saw something move between two trees. He cursed, louder than he should and spun quickly so his back was against the closest tree. He looked to his crossbow, remembered he'd fired it and cursed again, bending down to reload it.

He hadn't even got the bolt in when he stood back up, hearing the sounds of something running towards him. It was quicker than he expected and he dropped the crossbow, numb wet fingers grasped for his knife instead. He had a hold of the handle when a thin hand grabbed his wrist with a tight grip.

He pulled away, tried to before he looked up. He hadn't really paid attention to the fact that the hand had been soft or that there was no growling accompanying it. And so when he looked up and saw her, saw her face, a mirror of the shock on his, he wasn't completely sure this wasn't a dream, a delusion. He moved his arm free from her grasp as they just stared at one another.

"I never thought I'd see you again," she finally whispered. There might have been tears in her eyes, running down her face, it was impossible to tell in the rain. And then she moved closer to him, just one step and she moved her arms towards him a little, to touch him, to feel him, but he jerked away a little. "I..." she started, wanted to explain but she stopped herself. Smiled at him and she reached up to his face, pushed back the soggy dripping strands of hair that lay across his face. "It's really me," she told him, hands leaving his face and finding his body. She barely touched him but he felt it enough. Knew this wasn't some insanity bought on by the hunger or his guilt, or anything else. She was real and here and touching him and he reached his hand to the back of her head and pulled her towards him, nestled her into his shoulder so he could really feel her. Her arms wrapped around his back and held him.

His body felt so cold against hers, she could feel the tremors that shook him from the chill and she was suddenly desperate to break away from him, to get him back somewhere safe and warm. She pulled back slightly and he released his grip let his arm relax so she could pull away but he didn't break contact. His arm rested on her shoulder as she looked at him, her own arms slid round to his side.

She grazed her hand across his injured side and he reacted, body tensing, jerking from the touch.

They both looked at the area at the same time. "You're hurt," she said.

"It's old," as if that was good enough.

"Come on," she said as she went to lead him into the woods.

"I can't. The others. They're waiting for me."

"I can get you some food to take back. Supplies." She knew if he were injured and hadn't had it taken care of, then the others couldn't be in much better shape. "Let's get you taken care of. Warm you up and then you can go back, okay?"

He nodded as she picked up his crossbow, slung it over her own shoulder and she looked round to him.  
"Ready?" she asked, before she lead the way towards her own camp.


	2. Chapter 2

He felt as though he were in a haze, some dream like state which only heightened when Carol lead him into the wooden building. It seemed to have a warm glow about it, homey, but maybe that was him. His tired mind tricking him into thinking that.

Carol was pulling him across the room, pushing him down and there was the softness of a chair under him. His eyes flickered, the urge to close them and rest strong but he forced them to stay open. The thought of the others made him push himself back to his feet, but Carol was stood close by and pushed him back down and he didn't have the want to fight back.

Another woman's voice startled his relaxing frame and went to stand again. "I should go... I need to get back," Daryl said.

"You came back to eat first, remember? Get some supplies to take with you." Carol looked past Daryl to the other woman in the room. "Boil up some water for me," she asked and Daryl heard the retreating footsteps as the task was taken care of. A blanket was pulled around him, his body still shivered from the cold but he was surrounded by warmth. Once his clothes dried and his skin warmed, things would be different.

She bought him a drink or warm honeyed water but with a hint of something else he couldn't quite place. But he drunk it anyway, the last few drops have a chalky taste to it. He knew what it was then, that there was something in the drink she'd given him, but he didn't worry. As much as Rick wanted to believe she was cold and hard and dangerous to the group, Daryl didn't think that, didn't feel it.

"Lay down and relax for a while. I'll get you some things together, okay?" He looked at her, eyes a little weary. "Just for a little while. I'll be right here." She promised, taking the cup from his hands.

He stopped fighting, just let her guide him so he was laying on the couch. She brushed the still wet hair from his face, smiled as she went to move away, to get those supplies together, but his hand found her elbow and he held on, pulled her back towards him until she was crouched down beside the couch. "I didn't know where you were," he said. Her hands found his and she held his chilled hands between hers, held them to her chest to help warm them. "I wanted to find you," he said. "Was gonna bring you back."

She smiled at him. "I'm okay," she told him. "There are nice people here. We all look out for each other. We have food and warmth... so when you go back to them, you don't have to feel guilty about me, okay?"

He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. She didn't want to go back with him. He could see her watching him, even when his eyes weren't on hers and he worked to keep his features neutral. He smiled, thin and weakly at her and pulled his hands away from her, from her warmth, her touch.

And he closed his eyes, letting her go.


	3. Chapter 3

It hurt her.

More than she thought possible. After the losses she'd already faced, her daughter, her new family, being alone in the world, she didn't think she could be hurt much more. But Daryl's vulnerable state when she'd found him out there, his injury old and unhealing, his cold, his despair at it all had broke her a little.

She'd known Daryl for a long time by now. A lifetime, really. So to have him reach for her, to hold onto her and not let go. To pull her near to him, to feel her warmth, it was something she hadn't expected from him. She relished those moments of intimacy between them. When she'd held his hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly at having him back with her again.

But she knew nothing had really changed. Rick, Tyresse, the others, all of them they couldn't forgive her for what she'd done. She didn't even know if Daryl could. He hadn't mentioned it but that didn't reassure her in anyway.

So when he'd pulled his hand away from her, she'd let him. And she busied herself while he drifted. She didn't return to him until he had been still and silent for almost half an hour, then she laid out her supplies by the couch and knelt beside him. She wanted to check his wound first, the one that lurked beneath the dark, discoloured stain on his shirt. She pulled away the fabric and exposed it. It was only a couple of inches wide, but appeared to be deep. The wound had scabbed and cracked but the skin around it was red and swollen and fluid leaked from the cracks in the wound. She cleaned him up best she could. Dressed the wound and made sure she put enough medical supplies in the bag to keep treating it when he returned to the others. She feared how badly the others might be injured, how she could really only spare enough to treat Daryl's wound for a few days but had pushed in enough for him to change the dressing for a week. It was all she could do.

She imagined he wouldn't use them himself.

When he got back, he'd dish out the supplies to the others and he'd leave his wound as it was. and there was nothing she could do about that. She hung her head and sighed, wished she could do more. She pulled his shirt back down and used a wash cloth to clean his neck and face while he slept. The dirt removed from his skin, he still seemed as tired and weathered as he had before. She had hoped it would smooth away a lot more than it had.

"Here's the clothes you wanted," the other woman said, placing a small pile of clean clothes on a table.

"Thanks Kelly," Carol said, standing up to pack the clean clothes.

"We can't really spare much," Kelly said, carefully.

"I know. He got me through some of the worst times. I doubt I'd even be here without him. I'll go on a run once he's gone. Get us some more supplies. Don't worry." Carol said with a tight smile. Kelly was young and scared. Had a 5 year old kid to take care of and couldn't let Carol's fondness of a man threaten that. "He'll be gone in the morning," Carol added.

"He doesn't look like he should." Kelly said, looking at Daryl's prone form.

Carol couldn't disagree. But she knew it would make no difference. not once morning came.

oOo

She stayed with him all night. Curled up in an armchair near the fire, where she could glance over at him easily.

He slept deeply. Barely stirred at all. It worried her to see him so still and vulnerable.

When he finally stirred, he was confused and disorientated. And then he saw her and he seemed to remember everything. His demeanour changed. To one of someone who was hurt. he refused the offer of breakfast saying he needed to get back to the others. So she gave him a bag of supplies, tried to give him another with some clean clothes but he refused it. Told her clean clothes were an extra burden to them right now. They needed a more stable location before clothing was a worry to them all.

And then he was gone. Through the door and back out into the rain. she watched him as he disappeared into the trees and was out of sight and she couldn't help the frown on her face. It felt wrong but she knew this was how it needed to be for both of them. She waited until it grew silent again before she grabbed a gun and stuffed it into the back of her pants and followed the path Daryl had just taken.

She just needed to make sure he got back safely, as foolish as it was. Daryl was more than capable of taking care of himself but she needed to do this, to follow him and make sure, because she might not ever see him again. if she knew he was safely back with the group, she could live with that. Live with not knowing. Assume they'd live out there days together and die old. Taking care of one another. but to just close that door and not know if he found his group again, if he died out there alone, that was something she couldn't do.

She stayed behind him. The rain making it hard for him to hear her. But he kept his path simple, straight forward and it wasn't long before he came out into that open field, where they'd met again. So she waited back there as he crossed over the field. Needed him to be in the woods before she continued to follow him. She watched as he pushed his way through the open field, and she moved out of sight when another figure appeared. Rick. She could recognise his stance even from this distance. he'd come to find Daryl and for that, she smiled a little. Knew she'd done the right thing. Rick took the bag from Daryl's back and she turned headed back into the trees. Left them because they'd be okay together, she knew that.

She hadn't gone far when she heard a sound, back from the way she'd come. A yell, or cry of some sort. Distress, anger, pain? she couldn't be sure what, but she went back. Back to the edge of the woods, the edge of that field and she could only see Rick. Standing there with his hands pressed to his head, and she felt fear run through her. Had Daryl passed out? Maybe he was more hurt that she thought. Rick turned away from Daryl momentarily before he looked down to where she assumed the man was laying, just by Rick. and then Rick moved down, to help. The long grass made it hard to see and it wasn't until he stood back up alone a few moments, later, shaking his fist, rubbing his sore knuckles that the terrible truth started to come to her. He wasn't trying to help Daryl, he was attacking him? She watched as Rick let out a kick and then he groaned loudly as if he were in pain. It took another kick from Rick before she fumbled for the gun she'd bought with her.

She wouldn't kill him, she knew that. But she'd stop him. She fired a warning shot that ceased Rick's movements. He looked towards where she stood and she held her place. Gun aimed at him, ready to fire if he made a wrong move. And it seemed like Rick really hadn't known what he was doing because he looked down at Daryl and reached for him, carefully and Daryl must have pushed him away because Rick's straightened up and backed away. He looked over to Carol before he took the bag and left Daryl behind. She could still recall the savagery with which Rick beat Tyresse with and hoped this wasn't as bad.

She wanted to give him time to recover, to get himself together but the shot would draw walkers and she couldn't afford for them to get left outside if a herd came through. She wasn't sure if Daryl would be strong enough to make it. So she headed over to him, running as best she could over the wet muddy ground.

When she reached him he was still on his back, the rain making the bleeding cuts on his face look worse. She gently pulled him up and wiped her hand over his face. a split lip, a gash under his eye, but not too bad. But she knew Rick's physical blows weren't what kept him in his place but his betrayal. That he'd turn and strike Daryl at all.

"C'mon," she said, pulling him to his feet. And she lead him home.


	4. Chapter 4

He lay in her bed.

When they'd got back she taken him straight to her room, stripped his sodden, dirty clothes from him and pushed him into the bed she usually slept in. She covered him up, left some clean dry clothes for him and let him rest.

She left him for several hours to rest, going back with a weak broth. She woke him with her entrance. He was bleary eyed and she could see the confusion on his face, trying to work out where he was. She saw the exact moment he did remember what came before this.

He didn't move an inch, just his eyes sought her out as she stood by the side of the bed. She offered him a smile as she put the bowl down on a small table close to the bed. "You feel okay?"

Daryl nodded after giving it a little thought. "I guess," he said. That was to be expected. He was still cut and bruised and from Rick's hands, not to mention boots. "What happened?" she asked gently as she sat on the bed beside him, handing him the soup.

"Jus' went crazy when I mentioned you. Had my hand on the my knife... couldn't... could never do that. Not to Carl."

Carol smiled at him as he started to eat the soup. She wondered if Rick would tell them the truth or whether he'd deny having come across Daryl out there. She supposed it really didn't matter much either way. "You'll stay here, right?" she asked, tentatively. She wanted him too, yet she wasn't sure what exactly he wanted.

"What about the others here?"

"They won't mind. There's not many of us."

"What about Rick?" He asked her as though she would have the answers for him. She didn't know what to tell him.

"He made his choice. About both of us. He has to live with it now." She saw the slight wash of disappointment on his face before he stowed it away, finished the soup off. Carol took the empty bowl from him and put it onto the ledge by the window. "There isn't another spare room. Kelly has the other and she's in with her two boys. There's an old man in one of the other rooms. This was his place. Lived here with his wife. He's bed bound and she looked after him until... " Carol sighed. She didn't need to spell it out to him. "So, you can share with me."

Daryl looked at her before nodding, resigned to the fact that there was no other way for this to work out. "Gotta spare sleeping bag or somethin'?"

She expected as much. Though she wouldn't have minded if Daryl had wanted to share the space on the bed, she knew he was unlikely to do so. She went into one of the other rooms, where they had supplies bagged up and found a blanket and sleeping bag for him. Kelly stepped up beside her. "He staying this time?"

Carol just nodded. she talked about Daryl to her, well, all of the others really. To a degree. She tried not to think about them too much. Her banishment from them. Because it still hurt. But somehow, Kelly picked up on her fondness for Daryl. Would gently tease her about him. And she let her, because she enjoyed it, the reminder. The way she teased him herself. Carol lay her hand on Kelly's arm as she headed back to her room.

So they settled in. They had a routine, all found their place together. Daryl was able to provide for them better. He could take Carol onto longer runs, get more supplies. Before, she'd gone alone. And while she'd always stayed safe, always kept them going, she'd had to be quick and cautious because the others needed her to get back. Kelly was capable but she had three others to tend too. The idea of her and Carol going on a run had always been impossible.

They were heading back from a run when the tyre on the car blew. They had a spare in the trunk, so it was just a matter of changing it.

The rain made it more difficult, but not impossible. They worked quickly together to change it, both having their jackets pulled around them. A groan from behind them had Carol turning to see a lone walker making it's way towards them. She saw movement in the trees. More walkers probably. They needed to be quick. By the time they were driving away they were soaked through. But they were safe.

and they took plenty of food back for the others. Things for the kids too. They wanted them to have nice things. Kelly and the boys went through the bags of supplies while carol and Daryl slipped away upstairs. They both needed to change, Daryl intending to get his things and leave Carol to change in the bedroom, but she'd slipped her wet top off before he'd even gathered his things.

"You don't have to leave," she said as Daryl reached for the door handle. Her naked back faced him and she peered round at him, smiled reassuringly. She turned away from him and continued to strip off her wet clothes. As she pushed the wet pants off of her hips, Daryl turned away from her.

She heard him huff loudly before the sound of his clean clothes hitting the floor echoed round the room and Carol heard him pulling off his own wet clothes. She ran a towel over herself to soak up some of the wetness before she pulled the dry clothes on. "Tell me when you're done," she said, not wanting to turn round to face him before he was ready.

"S'fine," he said. She turned hesitantly, worried he hadn't had enough time to dress. But he was dressed, at least he was wearing a vest and pants and pulling a shirt on over the top. "I'll hang these up to dry," she said, picking up Daryl's clothes and piling them on top of her own and heading back downstairs.


	5. Chapter 5

He went hunting one day.

He still hunted alone. She never worried about it. Not until he didn't return just before dark, like always.

She couldn't concentrate on anything else then. Couldn't distract herself with meaningless tasks. She just watched and waited. Sat in he dark room by the window, waiting for movement that might be from him.

It came eventually. Kelly sat beside her, the kids in bed, arm hooked through Carol's to comfort her silently. They saw the movement and waited. Saw Daryl's hesitation at the darkness he found and it was enough to know he was still himself. Kelly unwrapped herself from Carol and left as Carol opened the door.

"I was worried," she said as soon as the door was locked behind him. Her hands hovered to do something, to hug him, but she refrained. Instead, gestured for the rabbit Daryl had hanging from the rope and he passed it to her. He didn't met her eye as he silently disappeared upstairs.

She let him go. Skinned and cleaned the rabbit and put it into soak before she headed up after him.

When she got to their room, because it was theirs by now, he was laying on the bed.

His heavy boots had been kicked off at the foot of the bed, and he lay on top of the bedsheets, facing away from her, looking out towards the window.

She moved over to sit beside him, the bed creaking as she did. Her hand reached for his and they held one another.

"I found a camp," Daryl started. "Same tents and everything. Carl's bag. And there was blood everywhere." His fingers gripped hers a little tighter as he thought about it. "Couldn't hunt after that," he said, voice as low as a whisper.

"You should have come back sooner,"

"I tried to look for tracks. To see if anyone made it. Maybe one of 'em." He didn't clarify whether he found tracks or not and she gathered her answer from that.

She noticed how cold he was, shivering slightly and she rubbed his arm, pulled at a blanket and covered him with it. He turned to her, rolled lazily onto his back as she peered down at him.

She could see the upset in his wet eyes, tears not shed but it was enough to hurt her.

And that was it. There was no one else left in the world that she knew that wasn't in this house. Every thing and every one that mattered to her lived here, under one roof. And they try. Try to survive here as long as they could. But she knew, eventually, they'd have to leave.

Something would happen and they'd run. They'd lose people.

So that was why she moved closer to him and lay with her chest up against his back, her arm across his body and holding his hand. And he let her. Only tensed for a brief moment at first, because that was his instinct. he let her wrap herself around him and hold him and he didn't shrug her away.

This was all they'd ever have.

oOo

It was late in the night when the repetitive thumping woke him.

He slipped out from beneath her arm, hesitant to do so. He followed the sound to the old man's door, opened it cautiously to see the man by the door, or the ground, thumping away, clawing to get out. Daryl had his knife ready to plunge down within seconds. And then he looked up.

In those seconds, before the knife plunged into his skull he smiled. His release had come at last. But Daryl's reflexes were sharp and he stopped before the knife pierced the skin.

"Damn," Daryl muttered. "Thought you were a walker,"

"You were supposed to." he said, sadly.


	6. Chapter 6

He was laying there awake one night, listening to a dog barking in the distance.

It reminded him so much of an easier time. Being here with these people, not having to run day to day, not starving, it was so unusual in this new world and he was afraid of that. These people here would get used to it. He accepted it and relished it as what it was.  
Nothing was permanent any more.

He never shared a bed before though. Not with the same person night after night. There were a few women.  
The first girl he slept with was gentle and patient with him. And he found out afterwards that Merle paid her.  
He'd paid her to be kind. Paid her to not rush him. Paid her to lay next to him and act as though she cared.  
Merle had thought it all through.  
Merle said he'd never been a real man but afterwards he was.  
And Daryl didn't feel like a man any more than he had before. But Merle seemed to treat him like one afterwards.  
That was something.

Carol being there was different. It felt safe. It made him feel protected.  
And then it was more than that.  
Kelly had been upset a few nights back and Carol had stayed with her, talking things through with her until the early hours and despite how much he tried, Daryl couldn't sleep without her. He just didn't want too, really. He missed the way her leg would graze slightly against his. Or how when she was asleep she'd roll over closer to him.  
He knew that she invited him in here. It was her room, her bed. And he could have slept on the floor. But Carol was too kind. He wondered if it wasn't him, if Rick had ended up alone out there, if he'd be in this exact same position, just because Carol was like that. Warm and kind.

He could hear the dogs barking getting louder. He wondered where it was going.

Carol's leg brushed against his thigh as she wriggled in her sleep and he shifted away from her. He was hot under the covers and her body against his wouldn't help. He slipped from beneath the covers when she moved again, trying to find him in her sleep.

He pulled his pillow off the bed and dropped it on the floor and he lay down. He wondered if she'd be hurt to know he'd moved away from her. But he had his reasoning. The heat, he reminded himself. Despite the fact it wasn't that warm tonight.  
He quickly cooled down on the floor and his eyelids grew heavy.  
And then sleep claimed him. Just for a little while.


	7. Chapter 7

He was back in bed with her, a few nights later. Worry pushed him back there.

One morning, while Daryl slept soundly on their floor, Carol had slipped down the stairs, her hand catching on a nail they'd never seen before as she reached out to stop herself falling. It had only been a few steps and besides bruising, she's been okay.

Kelly had stitched the cut up and that was how Daryl found her that morning, being stitched up. And Carol had seen the fear on his face. They always thought the worst now. So she beckoned him over from where he'd frozen, staring.

"It's just a scratch from a nail, that's all," Carol promised. He inspected it, once Kelly finished stitching. And Carol wondered what he was looking for as he inspected her hand carefully, not just the wound. "It's okay," she promised him.

"I didn't hear you fall," he regretted.

Picking up the bandage she gave it to him. "Wrap it for me?"

And he became attentive to her, more than normal. Did the simple things she could easily do, but gently insisted he did them. And she let him, because she recognised his fear. Even though it wasn't a brush with death, he was afraid to lose her.

He didn't move out of bed like he had before, he stayed close, wanted to make sure he was close by. And during the night, she reached out to touch him, half asleep, and she felt his warm skin against hers. It was clammy against hers and it stirred her from sleep. "Are you hot?" she whispered in the darkness. She felt rather than saw him nod. She left him in bed as she moved round, pushed open the window to left some of the night air cool him down. And then she climbed back into bed beside him, careful not to get too close, to make him more uncomfortable.

In the distance, the dog barked somewhere off in the night.

Daryl headed out early in the morning. The barking dog had him on edge, because he knew every night it was out barking, it could draw walkers to them. So he set some traps in the woods. Hoped the dog would fall for one of them. And on his way back he looked for tracks.

He wandered back to the field where he'd first found Carol and he almost hoped he'd see Rick or the others there. He couldn't let them go, despite what Rick had done. He wanted them to be okay.

But there was no Rick waiting in the field for him and no tracks from anyone.

So he headed back to Carol and the others.

When he got there, the kids were playing outside, Kelly watching over them as they played quietly together with sticks and rocks. And Carol was inside looking out, smiled at him.

He'd come back empty handed so she knew he hadn't been hunting. And he started to tell her when they heard a thump upstairs.

They both armed themselves ad headed up. Daryl had told them about the old man, what he'd done a few nights back. And the were prepared for it again. He used the same tactic again, hoped they'd buy into the fact he'd turned.

They helped him back into bed and he begged for them to end it for him, tears welling in his eyes. "I wanna get back to Rita," he told them.

They called Kelly in. The three of them discussed it and couldn't agree what to do. None of them wanted him to die, but he wanted it so badly. For not, they couldn't agree and so they decided to sleep on it. Talk it over again in the morning.

And in bed that night, Daryl felt uncomfortable. Not because of the heat, but because he hadn't agreed with her. He always agreed with her, her reasoning. But he didn't want them to kill that old man just because he asked them too. And then he remembered Jim, and how willing he'd have been to kill him when he was bitten. How it wouldn't have phased him to put that axe through his skull even as he coward away from him in fear.  
And he wondered when he changed so much.

Wondered when he became so weak and Carol so strong.


	8. Chapter 8

He fell asleep before she did. And she couldn't remember it happening before.  
Couldn't remember if she'd ever listened to the sound of his breathing during sleep.

She felt like it should have lulled her to rest, but it had the opposite effect. It made her uneasy. She felt tense, like the nights she waited for Ed to come up to bed when she knew he had a bad day.

She knew Daryl hadn't let go of the idea that the others might still be out there somewhere, needing help. Knew he'd go out there and look for tracks when he was hunting, but he never came back with any news on them.

She knew he didn't want to accept that that was it. That they were gone and there was nothing he could do about it. And she wouldn't say it to him again.

She turned on her side, stopped staring at the ceiling and closed her eyes.

They were arguing.

They never argued. But there they were, at one another's throats.

Daryl had hunted that morning. Gone out early despite the warmth of his skin and the sweat on his forehead, he went out and hunted.

And Carol didn't try and stop him, even knowing he was sick because it got him out the way. She took care of the old man. Of Jack. He thanked her when she stepped in there, knife in hand. Kissed her hand as he told Rita he was coming to be with her. It didn't take much effort. And once she'd pulled herself back together she'd left the room and headed outside to dig a grave.

Kelly screamed at her when she found out. Told her she was a monster. Told her to leave. And Carol nodded. Expected as much. So she headed in to get her pack.

She was packing up when Daryl got back.

Heard him as he opened the old man's door and looked in at what she'd done. Heard the door close and his heavy boot steps head towards their room. And he stood there, looking at her, waiting.

"It was what he wanted," she said without looking up at him.

"We didn't agree to anything," Daryl replied.

"One vote each, two for, two against. Stalemate. It was Jack's life, his decision overruled all of us."

"What's wrong with you?" Daryl asked. He stepped into the room, ducked down to catch her eye. She only held his gaze a moment before looking away.

"I don't feel bad about it, Daryl. It was what he wanted."

"I don't even know who you are," he muttered, turning away from her.

"If Rick had done it, you'd have had his back. Why is it so different if I take care of a problem?" She'd discarded the bag, had followed him a few steps, talking to his back.

"Because it'll destroy you!" He turned to face her, his face contorted in anger and she knew he had more to say but Kelly called out his name, and he headed to the window, barged past Carol as he did so.

And when he looked outside, all he could see were walkers heading towards them.

"Shit," he cussed as Carol reached him and saw what was coming. "Move," he demanded, pushing her towards the door, grabbing the bag and handing it to her as they headed down the stairs and outside.

"- Carol!"

She startled awake at her name whispered into her ear, a sense of urgency, danger to it, and she shivered at how she thought of Ed instantly.

"Daryl..."

"Ssh." His breath was hot against her skin.

They could both make out the mass of walkers in the distance, the distant moaning unmistakable.

"They're heading this way?" she asked.

He nodded. They needed to run again. She was exhausted. Seemed like he could go forever. Which is why he'd let her sleep. Knew she wouldn't make it far unless she got some rest. But they couldn't afford to rest any longer, not if they wanted to stay ahead of this herd. He pulled her backpack over his shoulders, the crossbow ready in his hands. "C'mon," he said as he lead the way.

And she followed.


	9. Chapter 9

They found a house.

Maybe it had been an old hunting lodge a long time ago. But it had been mostly destroyed. Fire must have ripped through this area at some point. The trees close by were destroyed by fire, others singed and the building had partially collapsed. It was of no use to them. But just beyond the house, there was a fallen tree, and the branches created a shelter.

Somehow this tree was spared from the fire, it had been taken in a different direction, maybe a breeze that spared this tree for them. Daryl made sure it was safe enough before he told Carol to sit still inside. And he checked to make sure he couldn't see her, from any angle.

He moved some branches over, gave them more cover and when he was happy, he crawled inside with her.

"Take first watch," he told her as he lay on the ground, back to her in the small space the tree provided them with.

oOo

It wasn't the sound of rain that woke him, but the way it dripped onto him, through the branches soaking through the material and leaving his skin damp.

He pushed himself up a little, couldn't understand why he was so cold until he realised he was missing the warmth from Carol's body. He sat up fully, panic surging through him. Had someone taken her, kidnapped her? Maybe a walker got her? But neither of those things would happen without him noticing. She was laying beside him. She'd have called for help if she were in trouble.

He fished into his pocket and pulled out his lighter. Held it out, using his other hand to protect the flame from the rain as he looked for something beyond the protection of the shelter, a clue as to where Carol was.

But there was nothing. Mud and puddles, but no trace of Carol. Not even a footprint in the mud.  
He couldn't tell if she'd left or been taken.

As he sat there, thinking about what may have happened he noticed the bag Carol had with a few supplies in it was also missing.

He remembered the noise as she pulled it off her shoulders, dropped it on the ground as she'd gone on watch. He'd sighed loudly in annoyance as she'd been searching through it.

And now it was gone.

She'd left. He'd made her leave.

And now he was alone.


End file.
